The Peacock Dance
by Glitter's Infatuation
Summary: My first fully-fluffy fic! I just had to write something fluffy! Here, Christian loses his voice and Satine has to make him feel better :) Edited slightly


Disclaimer: All characters are property of Baz and are used without permission. Also, Christian's surname was stolen from Karita and Hannah [Luv ya!] 

Dedication: As always, to my darlingest GRRR girlies – Camille, Karita-bean, Hannita and Madi!  
  
Note: My first attempt at a pointlessly fluff-filled fic :) 

  
The Peacock Dance

"Make him go home!" Nini broke off from the middle of her song to yell at Harold, who stood next to the Duke inspecting the chaos that was commonly known as rehearsals. "He's sick as a dog and his voice is shot to pieces!" Nini crossed her arms in defiance and rolled her eyes as Christian coughed and sputtered in reply. 

"I, I'm fine, just a little-" his sentence was cut off by a violent stream of hacking coughs, rounded off with an explosive sneeze. Satine looked on pitifully.

"Harold, can't you see that the poor boy is sick? He must rest at once! I will not have our writer ill!" Satine hurried to Christian's side and hooked her arms under his and staggered away with him, while the Duke looked on with utmost pride at his beloved Diamond being so concerned towards the…_writer_.

"Jeez Chris, you weigh a ton, what is Toulouse feeding you?" Satine almost tripped over her skirts as she lumbered up the rickety stairs to the garret. Kicking open the door, Satine dragged the heavily bunged-up poet to his bedside, where she dropped him and went to make him a drink. 

"Hey, ow, no need to be so gentle, I'm a tough boy" Christian clambered into his bed and rubbed his tingling funny bone hard. "Are you going to wait on me hand and foot until I get better?"

"Tough chance of that, my boy."

"Why not?" Christian tried to whine, but his voice just crackled and died, leaving him mute.

"Now this" Satine re-entered, carrying two tall glasses of water, "is more like it. Silence. You drink this up, and I'll be back to see you later, okay?"

Christian whinged in reply and fired his best puppy dog-eyes.

"Hey, stop it! You know I can't resist the eyes…argh!" Satine rolled her eyes and threw her hands into the air, all ladylike mannerisms forgotten. "The eyes! Oh the eyes! I cannot resist!"

Christian chuckled and tried to pull Satine in for a kiss, but she smartly rapped him over the head with her knuckles, making him yelp.

"No smootchies! I can't get ill too, what would the Duke think?" Satine kissed her fingertips and pressed them against Christian's lips, before gathering up her skirts and heading for the door.

"Now, you'd better get well soon, or no more kisses!" Giving Christian one last air-kiss, Satine raced down the stairs and across the hall back to the Moulin, leaving Christian bored stiff in his room.

{----------*----------}

Several immensely boring dull hours later, Satine returned. The rest seemed to have done Christian good, his voice had returned, still creaky and crackling, but back nevertheless. After playing the dutiful wife and feeding the starving poet ["Why didn't you make it yourself lazy tyke?"], Satine sat at the end of his bed, just watching him.

"Stop looking at me!" Christian croaked, making Satine giggle. "You're making me feel like an animal in the zoo."

"My little ape!"

"Are you saying that I resemble a furry, ugly monkey? That you very much!"

"I didn't mean it like that!" Satine has hysterical giggling.

"You-you-you black widow spider!"

"Huh?"

"A black widow spider gets a mate then eats it." Christian remarked, his eyes flashing cheekily.

"Christian Claremont!"

"What?"

"Are you saying that I'm going to kill you?" Satine sputtered.

"You said I was an ape! Do I really sit around all day picking fleas and scratching my bum?"

Satine collapsed onto Christian's bed giggling. Christian merely shook his head in disbelief.

"You do!" Christian pouted dramatically.

"I don't, honestly! It's just…scratching you bum all day!"

Christian started to sulk, and his voice faded slightly. "I don't really look like an ape, do I?"

"No, sweets, you look just like a…a…an adorable puppy! You know, your eyes are incredibly puppy dog-ish, did you know that?"

Christian grinned, "You, my darling, are a beautifully exotic…peacock!"

Satine suddenly raced up the rotten ladders to Toulouse's apartment, shouting down to Christian that he keep his eyes shut. Christian did so, and when he heard Satine practically fall down the stairs, he couldn't resist and almost fell out of his bed laughing.

Around her head was an exotic green and blue tie-dye scarf, which completely covered her red-gold hair. Her body was covered with what looked like a bed sheet, which was deep blue, speckled with various splashes of paint and glitter. The best bit of all was when Satine turned around and wiggled her bum. Stuck down into her knickers was a giant fan, wide open and covered with peacock colours and feathers. Satine did a little shimmy and the feathers waved with pride. Turning around, Satine winked devilishly.

"How do I look?"

Christian couldn't answer; laughing so hard had completely stripped him of his beautiful voice. He mimed an encore and clapped fiercely, especially when Satine wiggled the feathers right into his face. Pulling her down besides him, Christian tried to kiss her again, but Satine pulled away.

"No smootchies, remember? Naughty boy! Let me give these back to Toulouse." Satine scurried back up the stairs, wobbling with the heavy weight attached to her bum. When she returned, she sighed pityingly at Christian, who was finishing another bout of serious coughing with another explosion of a sneeze.

"It's a pity you're so ill, I was thinking about making wild and passionate love to you tonight."

Christian propped himself up onto his elbows and managed to croak out a reply.

"I'm feeling much better actually."

Snorting, Satine leaned over and brushed her lips over Christian's, before having to return to the Moulin for the nights show.

All that night, Satine kept sneezing, and cursed Christian mentally.

Christian, on the other hand, couldn't stop laughing at his mental image of Satine as a dancing peacock.

How wonderful life was, now Satine the peacock was in the world.


End file.
